


Birthright

by muppetstiefel



Series: drabbles [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Byers-centric, F/M, Family Bonding, Found Family, Good Parent Joyce Byers, Song fic, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 22:36:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20478590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muppetstiefel/pseuds/muppetstiefel
Summary: "privilege and pain when compared look the same.comprehension begins when we pull back the lens.right or wrong, tension makes us strongerby making us weak when we needed to be."The Byers cope after the battle of Starcourt. Things often go unsaid.





	Birthright

El is used to wolves.

Before she even knew what they were, she knew the lab was crawling with them. The metal of the soldier’s guns glinted in the sunlight like teeth, scorching her eyes. Her Papa’s hair was the colour of a wolf’s coat, matted and grey and heavy in the white tiled rooms.

They were wolves, and she was in the midst of their pack.

Mike was a wolf too. He was softer, kinder, with eyes like discs and a lopsided smile that pushed at his cheeks. But he was a wolf. Fiercely protective, with an angry, wide-set jaw that could tear her to shreds with just a few words.

She felt safe with Mike, and his particular pack. Even with her stilting words. Mike never cared for any of that. He cared for her in the way a pack of wolves would care for an abandoned young. With no recognition that they were different, and always would be.

Then there was Hopper. He was more like the men, with the glinting gun and the rough bark to match. More like Papa, with hair begin to discolour and warp at the end.

He introduced her to werewolves over mugs of steaming coffee. They slotted themselves alongside the vampires and zombies that flickered on the screen, but yet, to El, they were different. They were more human than the rest, with soft skin that could be kneaded and teeth different from fangs.

Hopper was a werewolf. He must’ve been, because sharp words and soft whispers don’t fit together.

The Byer’s aren’t wolves. El has been with them three weeks when she comes to that conclusion. Everything they do is soft. No harsh syllables, no torn skin or tattered clothes. They are all soft edges and clammy hands. Especially Joyce, El notices, as she rocks her to sleep one night. There is nothing but kindness written into their DNA.

Will calls Jonathan a ‘lone wolf’ one dinner time, but El quickly learns that that means he favours solitude, not that he is layered with any sort of anger. She wishes she wasn’t disappointed, but something in her yearns for the warmth of their fur. To feel secure under the weight of fangs.

But the Byers are soft, and kind, and gentle.

And El tries not to let that scare her.

* * *

Will is used to being fenced in.

His whole life was formed around one simple notion; Hawkins.

Until November 1983, Hawkins meant normality. It meant a solid foundation, a fragmented but healing family. It meant talking about girls and thinking about why it made his insides ache. It meant the smooth, solid grip of handlebars and Lucas’ hand on his shoulder.

After, Hawkins meant different. It meant tests and tubes and eyes flickering in his direction. It meant whispers of “Zombie boy” and Mike’s eyes welling with fear. It meant his skin prickling and his neck tingling without pause.

He’d always dreamt that one day, maybe he’d be the one to break the mould. To drive out of Hawkins and not cast a glance back for anyone. To feel lips on his and not be scared of what they meant.

And yet, when his mom announces they are leaving Hawkins, he feels something shatter.

Time feels sluggish, with that weight on his shoulder. The knowledge that every activity could be there last one together makes time freeze. All he can do is watch it helplessly as it simultaneously crawls and soars by, leaving him dizzy in its aftermath.

He always dreamt he’d leave Hawkins, leave behind the normal and the different together. He never imagined he’d do it with a girl crying in the seat next to him.

* * *

Joyce is used to feeling this expectation.

She supposes she looked at her mother this way too. Like she has the ability to fix the world with a plaster and a kiss.

Jonathan used to look up at her like that. He was the first person she felt she owed anything. She owed him everything, really. He was the one who opened her eyes and pulled her out of the hole she was falling into. He was the one who called her a princess, once, when they went to visit her aunt.

She doesn’t know when he stopped looking to her to fix everything. Probably the time he saw that she was falling apart herself.

Will was next. His eyes were always so kind, so softened. There weren’t walls, between the two of them. Any pretending seemed to vanish. She was the first person he would tell about his day, the first person to hear about Mike, then Lucas and then Dustin.

The upside down changed that. Life changed that. Will is sealed off to her now, in ways she’ll never understand. He’ll still talk to her, but now he expects nothing. Knows how helpless she is in all of this.

Now it’s El that looks at her with this sort of expectation. She is waiting for Joyce to fix it, to bring back her powers and find Hopper and make everything the way it was.

All Joyce can do is hold her close and tell her she’ll try.

* * *

Jonathan is used to feeling strong.

Not always. He was the weakest kid in his class, the one with the dodgy throw and the even dodgier left hook. He was scrawny for most of his life, hair like a bird’s nest and arms like fish bones. He filled out as he got older. His shoulders got broader, his chest wider, his arms capable of hauling the groceries home from the store.

He wasn’t always emotionally strong, either. He got used to that too, like a skill he practised hard. It was Lonnie who taught him the phrase. “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”

A bullshit phrase, Jonathan realises now. His brother isn’t stronger for the upside down. His mom isn’t stronger due to each and every splintering of her heart. He isn’t stronger for the years of bruising and ice.

But he had believed it at the time. Had steeled himself, and slowly chipped away at his marble until he was stronger. A sturdy version of himself.

It helped. Helped him hold his family together in his arms. Helped them survive Lonnie, then Bob, then Hopper.

He had worked hard at making himself stronger, and now he can hold three people in his arms.

“What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger,” becomes his motto. He repeats it to himself as he slouches at the bottom of the stairs. The conversation over the phone is one sided, but it’s loud, his mom’s voice cutting through the house. He presses his knees to his chest and listens intently. Some other part of him tries very hard not to listen.

He didn’t expect to wake up, already cut from his father’s will. That’s what you get, for studying photography, he supposes. That’s what you get for spending every second trying to scrub that man out of your existence.

He takes a breath, pushes it deep down into his lungs, and takes a step. Stronger and stronger still.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! This is just a little drabble based on the song Birthright by Sleeping At Last!! It's not the best thing I've ever written, but I just wanted to do a little warm-up write before I work on a bigger project again.
> 
> The sequel to Tangled Thread Inside His Head is coming!! Currently the plan stands at 15 chapters, but it will likely be more. It is very Byler-centric and expands certain aspects from the first fic: Why does Mike run track? Did Jonathan really want to go to college? What's going on with Max, El and Lucas? What happened to Dustin's candy store?
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed, and to those waiting for the sequel to TTIHH, thank you for being so patient!!


End file.
